Scene 1.
THE SCENE is a verdant Meso-American jungle at the dawn of the 16th Century. The jungle is filled with the sounds of tropical birds. THE CHARACTERS are a strapping young Aztec jaguar warrior and an equally strapping young Spanish privateer-explorer.
Conquistador: In the name of the Pope and the King of Spain, I command you to surrender and repent!
Jaguar Warrior: Oh crumb. We’ve just met and you’re getting all pushy. Let’s be friends?
Conquistador: Think again. I’m about to introduce you to the concept of religious warfare!
Jaguar Warrior: Oh, I know all about that. Last week my uncle slaughtered 500 Mixotec peasants in honor of an assortment of bloodthirsty nature gods. The gods had some full bellies after that, I’ll wager.
Conquistador: You’re going down, human sacrifice boy!
Jaguar Warrior: Pot...? Kettle?
Conquistador: [thumbs back serpentine on absurdly primitive firearm] The power of Christ compels you!
Jaguar Warrior: I don’t think your Christ wagered on this. [proffers Belgian chocolate bar in outstretched hand]
Conquistador: Ha! Your primitive weapon is no match for a state-of-the-art 8-gauge firelock backed up by Spanish steel and years of post-feudal military training.
Jaguar Warrior: It’s not a weapon.
Conquistador: Eh?
Jaguar Warrior: Go ahead, try a bite.
Conquistador: A bite? I guess it couldn’t hurt. [breaks off a square and tastes it tentatively]
Jaguar Warrior: There’s a good fellow.
Conquistador: Whoa. I mean.... Holy Christ, that is good!
Jaguar Warrior: You like it?
Conquistador: It’s a whole new world of gastronomic beauty!
Jaguar Warrior: And I can show you whole palaces full of it.
Conquistador: For real?!
Jaguar Warrior: Yep.
Conquistador: Which way?
Jaguar Warrior: I’d be happy to show you. Of course, we’d move faster if you’d leave behind all that armor and weaponry.
Conquistador: Of course! Silly me. [puts down firearm and strips out of helmet and armor with surprising speed, revealing “six-pack” abs and a black Speedo bearing an image of the patron saint of Aragon]
Jaguar Warrior: Off we go.
Scene 2.
THE SCENE is the interior of a large stone structure in the middle of what is now Mexico. It is a store room filled with chocolate in various forms, on shelves, in barrels, and in stacks. THE CONQUISTADOR is still clad only in the Speedo, with candy wrappers piled loosely around him. THE JAGUAR WARRIOR is there too; his obsidian-toothed war club has been leaned against a wall.
Conquistador: Ohh ... mmmm ... ohhhh. [drops empty wrapper]
Jaguar Warrior: Good stuff, huh?
Conquistador: I’m feeling a little woozy.
Jaguar Warrior: That’s the sugar crash.
Conquistador: You know, I never thought I’d say this, but I don’t think I can eat any more.
Jaguar Warrior: Oh, it happens to everyone. Sounds like your attitude to my people has changed. You haven’t called us “hellbound heathens” in two days.
Conquistador: Did I say that? [rubs belly lazily] Funny how things change.
Jaguar Warrior: Welcome to apostacy.
Conquistador: [sleepily] Amen to that, brother. I think I’ll title my book Post-Catholic: How Chocolate Awakened Me to the Peace-Loving Utilitarian Internationalist Who Lives Within All of Our Hearts.
Jaguar Warrior: The only problem with chocolate is, it’s a pain to move it all. Have to hoist up big barrels on your back and slog through the jungle. It would be nice if it were easier, but one can’t have everything, I suppose.
Conquistador: Or you could just use wheelbarrows.
Jaguar Warrior: You could just use whatbarrows?
Conquistador: [almost asleep] Wheel....
Jaguar Warrior: What in the name of Quetzlcoatl is a “wheel”?
Conquistador: Oh, it’s a solid object, approximately disc-shaped, usually made out of wood. It supports the weight of an object, and by turning, prevents the repeated investment and loss of gravitational potential energy necessitated by the footsteps of man or beast of burden. Totally revolutionized cargo and passenger transport in Eurasia. Pretty cool invention. [falls asleep]
Jaguar Warrior: What, you mean you rest a heavy object on an axis threaded through the center of a vertical disc, and then you just push? Or pull? You’d have to lubricate the bearing, but that wouldn’t be too much of an engineering feat. [pause] Holy crap. That would revolutionize transport. You could make linear clearings through the jungle, connecting settlements, perhaps studding the clearings with flat rocks to prevent wheels sinking into the soft earth. Why stop at wheelbarrows? You could rest a rectangular pallet on four wheels, with two axels, for a much more stable load. [pause] By increasing peaceful intercourse between communities, peoples could present each other with their great gifts - from intricate craft goods to pure knowledge! Meso-America could exit the era of violence, superstition, and strife, and enter a new age of communication, compassion, and learning! [pause; turns to sleeping CONQISTADOR] I completely had the wrong idea about you people.
Conquistador: [wakes up with sticky mouth-noises] What did you think about my people?
Jaguar Warrior: Well, I thought you were skull-cracking, bible-thumping simpletons. Turns out that, with the invention of the wheel, you have given humanity the greatest tool since the atlatl. [CONQUISTADOR gives a blank look] It’s a spear-thrower.
Conquistador: Oh. Well, I appreciate the sentiment, but the Spaniards didn’t actually invent the wheel.
Jaguar Warrior: [looks disappointed] Well, what did you invent?
Conquistador: Watch. {stands up and pulls a pair of castanets from God-knows-where; begins to flamenco]
Jaguar Warrior: Santa Maria!
Conquistador: I won a contest in Malaga once.
Jaguar Warrior: Apparently the sugar crash has worn off.
Conquistador: Oh yeah.
Jaguar Warrior: Let me try. [begins to roughly imitate CONQUISTADOR]
Conquistador: Not bad. [both dance for a while] Hey, watch out! {Jaguar Warrior trips on a chocolate barrel and hits leg on sharp corner of stone wall; blood flows from a small shin wound wound]
Jaguar Warrior and Conquistador: Oh crap! {Jaguar Warrior mops blood from leg]
Jaguar Warrior: I knew I should have worn my stretchy cotton body-suit. I’m starting to feel feverish.
Conquistador: Don’t fear. I’ll raise your children as if they were my own.
Jaguar Warrior: I knew I could count on you. Blood poisoning sucks ass. [slumps over and stops moving]
19th Century Physician: Wheels, cotton clothing, and chocolate are okay, but they’re not much compared to germ theory.
Conquistador: Sweet fancy Moses! Where did you come from?
19th Century Physician: Time machines are pretty neat, too.
Conquistador: Well, don’t just stand there! Can’t you help him? [waves hands and points to fallen Jaguar Warrior]
19th Century Physician: No, he’s already dead of a rapid blood-born infection caused by ubiquitous tropical pathogens.
Conquistador: Is there nothing you can do?
19th Century Physician: Help a dead man? Do I look like God to you?
Conquistador: Well, with those corrective eyeglasses, a rigorous scientific method allowing you to understand microbiology, and a freekin’ time machine ... yeah, you pretty much do look like God to me.
19th Century Physician: Oh. [rolls eyes] Barbarian.
Conquistador: Ad hominem!
19th Century Physician: [looks guilty] Yeah, you’re right.
Conquistador: Want a Butterfinger? [proffers wrapped candy bar]
19th Century Physician: Yeah. [takes candy bar]
THE END
